Granted, there isn't much to it. In comparison to others, anyway.

Yours truly--Katherine, by the way, Miss Katherine Jolene Amnesty, a pleasure to meet ya--has lived in the small town of Dallas, Texas for...basically...the last five out of the 17 in my existence. I live in a little apartment that I get to share with my mother dearest, and my two darling little s̶h̶i̶ sisters.

At least...I did. Until about six months ago.

The night started off nice enough. I had this biting feeling about something, but chose to ignore it and continued to read the strange book I had found in the library. T̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶b̶o̶o̶k̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶   We're not there yet.

Anyway, it was an ordinary night, right? I had gotten home from marching band practice and was reading my book, and my mother and middle sister were off to the therapist. "We're off!", she said. "Bye, mom! Bye, Carrie!", my youngest sister, Bridgett, and I had said.

Those were our last words to them.

I mean that not in the sense that they're dead, because the police have yet to find the bodies, but...it's like they disappeared off the face of the earth. I don't know how else to explain. And it's honestly frustrating; not having an answer. I̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶e̶q̶u̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶f̶r̶u̶s̶t̶r̶a̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶k̶n̶o̶w̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶s̶o̶m̶e̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶w̶h̶o̶ ̶s̶a̶i̶d̶ ̶h̶e̶'̶d̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶s̶u̶p̶p̶o̶r̶t̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶p̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶a̶ ̶p̶h̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶c̶a̶l̶l̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶g̶o̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶l̶e̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶u̶s̶t̶ ̶b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶B̶r̶i̶d̶g̶e̶t̶t̶ ̶i̶s̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶r̶e̶s̶u̶l̶t̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶s̶p̶e̶r̶m̶,̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶h̶e̶'̶d̶ ̶r̶a̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶n̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶p̶ ̶t̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶c̶a̶r̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶h̶e̶r̶.̶ ̶ That isn't important.

So, time skip back to the present, sort of. It's April, tests are flowing in, and Bridgett and I are doing alright. I'm working as a magician of sorts, running my own business to pay bills while still going through the Junior year. Yeah, remember that book from earlier? We can talk about it now.

I found one similar underneath a shelf in the nonfiction section of the library. The librarians didn't recognize it, so they just let me keep it. The book turned out to be a journal of sorts, but it gave no indication as to who wrote it.

It's mine now.

So I read up on it; it kept talking about transmutation and the conservation of energy. Very Full Metal Alchemist. I got curious, and down the rabbit hole I went. I kept reading, and studying, and started taking some of the stuff it said to heart. I started practicing a month before they disappeared. It wasn't until three months later I was actually able to transmutate for the first time.

It was on something small; A broken measuring cup, if I remember correctly. I made the circle, put all the pieces in the middle, and channeled myself into the core of it. Then, I opened my eyes and BAM! It was all fixed.

So, I did what any person would naturally do when they were either given or granted a new power. Practice. Improve. Improvise, adapt, overcome. And that's basically what my job is. Transmutation practice, with a little extra flair. Because I'm nothing if not extra.

I mean, the hours are decent, and so is the pay. Everyone seems to like my services. And I certainly like the practice. But this is probably going to be a placeholder until I graduate, and can do online school to get a 'nicer' job. Or maybe I'll just keep the business going; I've learned to not push fate at this point.

Bridgett's doing alright too, but...she still thinks they're coming back. I mean, it's possible until it isn't, but I don't want to get her hopes up.

Still, we manage to get by alright. Had to cut a few corners, but we didn't really need them. Why pay for cable when you can stream?

I'm getting off task. Anyway, it's April, and I have to get my little shister to school soon. Again, doing what any loyal, kind, sweet, big sister would do, "UP AND AT'EM!! C'mon, let's go!"

She groaned before getting up and rubbing her eyes. "Five more minutes?" "Nope, out. C'mon.", I told her before starting to playfully push her out of the bed. Bridgett giggled pretty loudly before finally moving out of her bed. We were ready for school in thirty minutes.

I made us both toast, which we eat for our breakfast on our way to her school. I dropped her off and waved bye before reluctantly driving myself to school.

It wasn't that I didn't want to go to school that day, because I never want to go to school, but I still go. It was more of the fact I wasn't feeling so good. In the same sense that happened that night. Pounding head, upset stomach. It was like my body was screaming at me to turn around and stay home that day. That something bad was going to happen.

Maybe I should have listened. But then we wouldn't be here today.

"Everybody~put your hand up!", I hummed as I walked into the school. A group of kids approached me with eager smiles.

Alright, friends. Guess I should introduce them.

Down the line: There's an African-American girl with long braids and the biggest attitude of the group on the far left. Her name's Astrid, and she's a queen.

To the right of Astrid is a Latino boy with trans-colored hair that goes by the name of Damien, no matter what his parents might say. Very defensive, but can still be a sweetheart.

And next up is a dude with every vein of Irish in him I have given the nickname of 'Goddammit Christian'; because that's all I ever seem to say to him. He's a playful personality.

Finally, we have Isabelle, with her blonde hair and blue eyes, who is by far the most athletic out of us, yet the shyest girl I've ever met. And that's saying something, in comparison to me.

"There she is! The woman of the hour!", they cheered as I walked towards them, ironically strutting like a supermodel. Lol, I'm, like, the least confident out of all of them, but hey, I like a good joke. I flipped my dirty-blonde-borderline-brunette hair and smiled, laughing with them. We started talking on our way to class, but the feeling never went away.

When it finally decided to happen, the gang and I were at lunch. "I'm just saying; you're literally superpowered. Like, on tier with Scarlet Witch superpowered. Why won't you use it?", Damien asked again. "I'm not on tier with any of the Avengers, I'm not that strong. Besides, I tried one time, and that didn't turn out well."

I... don't like talking about that. I was young, I was dumb, I was more impulsive than I am now.

"I-I know but-" "Can we talk about something else? Please?", Isabelle asked, but their voices were muffled. My head started screaming, and I looked up before hearing the sound that would change my life as I knew it.

Bang!